King of Thieves
by sitabethel
Summary: Ryou returns from Yugi's Ceremonial Duel with a surprise sleeping in his bed. He wants to know about the mysterious thief's past, but he'll settle for his legend instead. /Gemshipping/ Mature fic/


*****This is drunk!prompt 1 of 5. Gemshipping with TKB getting his hair cut. (For those of you that don't know, the drunk!prompts were from me getting drunk one night and doing an open call for anon prompts on Tumblr). Hope you like it, anon.*****

* * *

Ryou's feet felt heavy, and so did the suitcases he carried. He had enjoyed Egypt, enjoyed spending time with the others, but he was exhausted . . . heavy, his limbs felt like stone. Ryou watched his shadow walk in front of him down the hallway to his apartment. Ryou reached out with his fingers, as if to caress his shadow.

"It really isn't fair, is it?" he whispered to his shadow.

But there was no longer a voice there to answer Ryou, to sneer in his mind- _compared to what, yadonushi?_

Ryou sighed, setting his luggage down in front of the door while he fished for his key. He dropped the luggage in the living room, deciding to unpack later. His stomach muttered a complaint at him, but he knew the fridge was almost empty- any produce or meat would have spoiled during his trip. Glancing at a mirror, Ryou also noticed that his skin and hair looked greasy from travelling. He knew he should eat. He knew he should shower, but his body was a burlap sack filled with cement, and he couldn't eat or bathe until he'd had a nap.

As he walked through the living room, he passed the little figurine of a crimson-cloaked thief. Ryou paused to pick it up and touch the scar he'd painted on with a fine-tipped detail brush. "Wherever you are . . . I hope you're okay. I'm sorry we never really go a chance to know each as well as Yugi and Atem got to know each other." Ryou sighed again, setting the thief king figure down. "You hung around my neck, but you were too far away."

He rubbed his neck as if the weight of the Ring still pulled against him. Ryou rolled his head from side to side to try and work out the tension cramping his shoulders. He shuffled towards his bedroom, flicking on the light as soon as he stepped across the threshold.

Ryou shrieked when the bulb flashed on. In his bed lay a life-sized version of the thief. He lay curled into a ball above the duvet, snoring loudly with drool trailing out of the corner of his mouth. The sight made Ryou laugh once the initial shock wore away.

Ryou's laughter woke the thief. He jerked up, looking around. "Where the hell am I?"

"My room."

The thief's eyes darted around, panicked. He reached out, grabbing the pillows, gripping the duvet, pawing everything in reach as if to ensure it truly existed. "How? I lost?" He stopped when he noticed his own hands, raising them centimeters away from his silvery eyes. "I'm not in your body." He clawed the red robe off of his shoulders, palming his hands over his half-starved, but still rather sculpted, body. "Th-this is mine. This is my-" he tossed his head back, cackling towards the ceiling. "I'm back in my own body!"

Ryou couldn't help the huge smile on his face. "It must have been when the Items were sent back into the Darkness. That must have made you come back to life somehow."

The zealous laughter caught in the thief's throat. He stared at Ryou, mouth agape. "Sent back? So the Pharaoh?"

"He's gone. Yugi beat him in a Ceremonial Duel."

"No." He shook his head. "No. No. It can't end like this. It can't- why would I come back if not to fight him?"

Ryou's shoulder's slumped. He frowned, walking towards the bed. "I can't answer that because I don't know . . . but I might be able to answer another question you probably have."

The thief glared at him, suspicious. "Yeah? What question would that be?"

"What happened to your family? Aren't you curious? Now that it's over?"

The thief snorted, forming two fists with his hands. "You don't know what happened to them anymore than I do."

"No, but I think I could channel someone from Kul Elna, act as a medium. I'm not sure who would come, or if anyone would come, but if it worked, you could talk to one of them directly- find out what happened to their spirits- know if they're at peace."

"What good is knowing if I can't avenge them if they're suffering!"

Ryou stepped back, expression rueful. "I think they're okay. I have a very strong feeling that they are, but, I . . . just thought . . . I wanted to give you some comfort- I'm sorry." He spun to leave. It was his apartment, he shouldn't be the one to leave, but leaving himself was quicker than arguing.

" _Yadonushi,_ wait!"

Ryou stopped and glanced over his shoulder.

The thief looked miserable. All his initial joy scorched out of his soul. "Do you really think you could contact someone?"

Ryou shrugged, and then faced the thief again. "I've never tried it, honestly, but I bet I could. I was a sort of channel for you, although the Ring made it easy, but I should still be able to do it on my own."

He looked away. "Why would you help me after everything I did?"

Ryou gave him a slight smile. "I never said I wouldn't want to be compensated for my services."

The thief raised a platinum eyebrow. "Have I rubbed off on you while sharing head-space? What sort of _compensation_ would you like, _yadonushi_?"

Ryou snorted, deciding to carry on with the thief's lewd insinuation. "I want you, _thief king_."

The thief looked off-balanced; Ryou noted the reaction. It was nice to see. The spirit had always been so confident, so ruthless, in the Ring, so it was glorious to see him sitting on Ryou's bed, in his own body, looking unsure of himself.

Ryou gestured with his hands. "I never got to know you. Yugi became really close with At-uh, the Pharaoh. I think I at least have a right to see you as you really are, even if we can't become friends like them."

The thief snorted, shrugged and splaying out his hands. "I can't help you with that . . . I don't even know who I am. I remember . . . why I hate, and I remember fighting."

"You don't remember your life? What about your name? Do you at least have something I can call you besides _Thief King Bakura_? That's obviously a fake name."

"I _was_ a king among thieves."

"But _I_ _am_ Bakura."

"I know," he said, somber. "I know."

Ryou gave up, going to his bed and flopping down beside the thief. "Alright, alright, I'll call you Bakura, then, and if you can't tell me about your past . . ." Ryou thought a moment. "Then stay here. If I can't know who you were, I'll settle for who you are."

"Are you stupid?"

Ryou grinned, looking up at thief. "You were an ancient Egyptian thief who possessed a dark artifact and, through that, me. It's fascinating. I want to learn what I can."

Bakura crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, your occult fetish. Sometimes I forget about it."

Ryou gave Bakura a mock gasp. "Fetish? Why, Bakura, you make it sound like I want to be handcuffed by a ghost."

He smirked. "Well? Wouldn't you?"

"Don't look so excited. You're no longer a ghost." Ryou wrinkled his nose. "You smell very much alive, and like you haven't showered in 3,000 years. Why don't you fix that while I prepare for the ritual?"

The thief, once again named Bakura, flung himself down so that his arms were raised above Ryou and their faces were close. "What's the matter? Don't like my natural musk?"

"It's a little too feral for my tastes."

Bakura clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, standing up and tossing his shenti in Ryou's direction. "It's probably the clothes more than anything. Wash them."

"I'm not your wife. Wash your own damn clothes." Ryou threw the shenti and the robe onto the floor. "I need to prepare for the ritual, anyway."

Bakura's laughter vanished down the hall, leaving Ryou alone. He stood up, picking up the red robe and sniffing it, wincing as soon as he did so. In the end, he put both garments into the washer and found a pair of old, baggy sweat pants for Bakura to wear.

He also surrounded his bed with white candles and drew a protection circle. He didn't use anything else. He wasn't going by a specific spell or school of magic. Ryou _intuitively_ knew what to do. The protection circle was a basic, cautionary measure. He settled on the bed, relaxing, feeling his mind drift off.

"What the hell are you doing?" Bakura asked.

"Preparing."

"You look like you're sleeping."

"In a way," Ryou answered. "When your consciousness leaves your body for another spirit to use, it's a lot like sleeping." Ryou sat up. "Trace mediums are usually conscious when the spirit uses them to communicate. I'm going to do something a little different. I'll leave my body and let the spirit into it to speak with you." Ryou blinked, realizing that Bakura was standing in front of him naked. "You dork, I gave you sweatpants."

He frowned. "They were too long."

"Roll them up. You don't want to be naked."

He shrugged. "Nudity really isn't that big of a deal."

"Bakura. Pants."

He rolled his eyes, but grabbed the black sweatpants and fumbled into them, rolling the cuffs up so that they fit.

"Are you ready?" Ryou asked.

"I was ready. You're the one that insisted that I waste time putting on pants."

"Hmph, well, thank you for indulging me. I suppose we can begin now." He laid back on the bed with his hands laced on top of his belly and closed his eyes.

"What do I do?" Bakura asked.

Ryou cracked an eye open. He noticed a tinge of nervousness in the thief's voice and he felt sorry for Bakura. Three thousand years was a long time to wait for a reunion. "Either stand where you are or sit on the bed. I'm going to meditate and see if I can call a spirit to me . . ." Ryou shrugged. "I've never done this before, so I don't really know what to expect."

"Let's just get this over with," Bakura grumbled, plopping on the edge of the bed and picking at a loose thread from the comforter.

"Okay." Ryou nodded, closing his eyes again.

A sense of serenity warmed Ryou from the inside out. He sank into it, searching until he felt like he'd found what he was looking for. Then Ryou felt as if he floated in a warm bath. He never wanted to leave the sense of comfort, but after what felt like only a moment, he felt himself sinking back into the cold and stiffness of his physical body.

As he came to, Ryou realized a dense weight pinned him down to the mattress, and he heard someone shout _don't leave._

Ryou's eyes fluttered open. Bakura was crying into Ryou's chest, holding onto Ryou as if there was nothing else solid in the world. Ryou sat up, wrapping his arms around Bakura. Neither spoke. Ryou rocked Bakura until they were both asleep on top of the bed, still bundled together.

When Ryou awoke, daylight was streaming through the curtains in his bedroom. His entire left arm was numb from Bakura sleeping on it. Ryou shifted, trying to remove his arm from beneath Bakura's body weight. Despite being gentle, the moment he moved Bakura jerked up.

"Sorry," Ryou whispered.

He looked around, as if he didn't remember where he was. He rubbed dried tear salt and grit from his eyes, and then his eyes gave a quick flick in Ryou's direction before he turned away. "Fuck."

He tried to rush away, but Ryou stood up with him. "Are you hungry?"

"No," he snapped, but then he winced. "Maybe."

"Well, I'm starving." Ryou dashed to the kitchen to see what he find in the pantry since his fridge was empty. As he searched the cupboards, Bakura crept into the kitchen. He reminded Ryou of a Set Beast, a strange chimera that didn't quite fit in with other animals. He looked skittish, nervous, but ready to tear a throat out if he had to.

Ryou pulled two containers from the cupboard. "I'm afraid we're going to have to settle for cupped noodles until I can get to the grocery store."

"I'll eat anything," Bakura muttered.

Ryou set about to preparing their unenthusiastic breakfast. They sat and ate the table. Bakura wolfed the food down before Ryou finished blowing the steam away from his first bite.

"Slow down," Ryou said. "You'll burn your mouth."

"I'm fine."

Ryou gave him a small grunt to agree.

Bakura stared into his noodles. "I suppose you want to know what happened last night."

"I know they're okay. You would have been angry if they weren't."

Bakura nodded, his hands trembling. "It was . . . I saw, no, I spoke with my m-mother-" All the air left Bakura's mouth with a gasp. He curled in on himself, hands in fists, teeth digging into his bottom lip in a vain attempt to control his emotions. He slammed his fist against the tabletop three times, but the tears came without his permission, and then he could only bury his face against the table and choke on his own sobs.

Ryou watched, his facial features tight and his hands also in fists. He wanted to march straight to the Kame Game Shop and punch Yugi in the jaw. It wasn't fair. It wasn't Yugi's fault, and Ryou supposed it wasn't Atem's fault either, but Ryou couldn't stand seeing Bakura so shattered, and he wanted to be able to direct his anger _somewhere_.

Ryou left the kitchen, so Bakura could grieve. He wanted to hold him again, like he did the night before, but he knew that'd make Bakura feel weak, so Ryou took a shower instead. When he finished blow-drying his hair, he noticed Bakura asleep again with his head resting on the table. His cheeks were tear-stained and puffy, his nose red and swollen, but he looked almost peaceful. Ryou reached out and brushed a few bangs away from Bakura's forehead. He left a note saying he'd gone to the grocery store, wrapped a fleece throw over Bakura's shoulders, and then left the apartment.

First he went to a discount store and bought some clothes, guessing as best he could on the size based on how his own sweat pants had fit Bakura. Ryou tried to buy things that would be baggy because he didn't like the way the ribs had poked from Bakura's cinnamon-colored sides and had already vowed to himself to put some weight on the thief. He also bought shoes and and a toothbrush, but he didn't bother with underwear because he had noticed that Bakura didn't wear them- even when he possessed Ryou's body he never wore them, so Ryou figured it'd be a waste of money.

At the store Ryou stocked up on rice, soba, vegetables, and meat. He rushed home, wanting a proper meal instead of the small cup of noodles he'd had for breakfast. He stumbled into his apartment with too many bags.

He looked around, not wanting to call out in case Bakura was still sleeping. Ryou saw Bakura lying on his side on the carpet, staring at a Monster World diorama and toying with the figurines.

"Hey," Ryou said, kicking the door shut behind him.

Bakura's eyes flicked towards Ryou and then back to the little dolls.

"So, don't jump up to help or anything." Ryou rolled his eyes, trying to keep the bags balanced in his arms.

Bakura studied Ryou. He pushed himself to his bare feet, walking up to Ryou. He stood there and stared as if he honestly didn't know what to do.

Ryou exhaled. "Follow me." He managed to get into the kitchen without dropping anything. He separated the groceries from the clothes and handed Bakura three bags. "Go try these on. Anything that doesn't fit or you don't like set aside to I can take it back to the store and exchange it.

Bakura frowned at the bags.

"Bakura? What's wrong?"

"No one's ever . . . what the fuck is wrong with you, host?"

"If I'm going to call you Bakura, you should at least call me Ryou."

Bakura slammed his bags on the floor. "I don't want charity."

Ryou winked at him. "Then consider it theft. I bought them, they're technically my clothes."

Clothes that wouldn't fit him in either direction, but he didn't add that detail.

"Fuck you. I don't want your pity, I don't want your charity, I don't want your friendshi-"

Ryou grabbed Bakura by the hair and smashed their mouths together. It wasn't well executed, their teeth clanked and Bakura froze in shock so there was no movement to the kiss, and when Ryou pulled back they both blinked at each other with wide, surprised eyes.

"Oh dear." Ryou panted a little, his heart racing in his chest. "I'm not really sure why I did that. I-I'm sorry."

Bakura stepped back, still in shock. He growled, snatching the bags and disappearing.

Ryou's face burned. He turned back to the groceries and tried to distract himself instead of thinking of how stupid he was. He had trouble chopping vegetables for their lunch. His hands trembled a little and he felt warm and agitated inside. Bakura reappeared as Ryou plated their meal.

"Did they fit?"

"What? Bakura asked. He sounded distracted.

"The clothes and shoes?"

"Oh, yeah . . . the clothes were all a little big, but I can't really complain."

"You're too skinny." Ryou frowned as he took another look at Bakura's ribs. "They should fit in a few weeks."

Bakura stared at his toes "Maybe I should take off before then."

Ryou spun towards him. "I'm really sorry about the kiss. I swear I'll never disrespect you like that again. I'm not sure why I even-"

"Oh please, Ryou. I stole your body- you stole a kiss. It's going to take a little more than _that_ to offend _me_." Bakura looked away. "I've . . . stolen enough from you. I've always stolen from kings and nobles, but not people, not until you . . . I should go."

Ryou forced a smile. "Well, I could always steal another kiss and then we could call it even."

"That's _not_ enough to call things even between us."

"You were supposed to stay." Ryou's forced smile collapsed. "That was our deal. I help you get closure and you stick around for awhile."

The thief narrowed his eyes at Ryou. "You know that deal was for charity. You feel sorry for me."

"I feel angry!" The words burst from Ryou's mouth before he could filter them. "When I see what you've gone through, and how no one so much as _acknowledged_ you! It makes me so angry! You were an asshole. You did bad things. I don't want to make excuses for you but dammit- _dammit_ -" sobs hiccuped from Ryou's mouth. He felt himself back into the counter, sliding down to the floor. "You had to watch them die."

He sensed Bakura sitting beside him, but couldn't see anything past the blur of tears. He felt fingers in his hair, Ryou blinked to clear his vision and looked up. The thief turned his head and dropped his hand.

"You're a mess," Bakura muttered.

Ryou rubbed his nose on his sleeve, sniffling. "Yeah? Well, we all can't be as strong as the _king of thieves_."

"Never had a choice."

"I suppose not." Ryou stood up and washed his hands before serving their food.

Bakura stared at the plate, standing next to the table instead of sitting down.

"Eat," Ryou ordered. "You're too skinny."

"I'm not a pet you can just order around."

"No, a pet would be more useful to me. Even the most temperamental of cats will show affection."

" _Yadonushi,_ I'm hurt that you think that way." He snorted, taking a bite. "You're covered in the proof of my affection- all the more reason to get rid of me."

Ryou touched the spot on his chest dabbled with scars from the Ring. "Maybe I should be soliciting your scorn instead of your affection. You never made Yugi bleed."

Ryou heard a clink. He looked up and noticed that Bakura had dropped his fork against his plate.

Ryou's mouth dropped. "I didn't say it to be cruel. I was just-"

"-acting like a smart ass." A grin toyed with the thief's face. "I'm sort of impressed, Ryou."

It broke a sort of tension between them. They ate in silence, but it was comfortable. Ryou washed and dried the dishes. When he entered the living room, he found Bakura laying on his stomach, starting at the Monster World board again. Ryou couldn't see Bakura's eyes through the platinum shag falling past his forehead.

"You need a haircut," Ryou said.

Bakura combed his bangs out of his face with his fingers. "It's not as long as yours."

"Yeah, but mine isn't in my face." Ryou chuckled. "I'll cut it for you tomorrow."

Bakura ignored the statement, holding up a wizard figurine to silently ask if he wanted to play. Ryou grinned, snatching two throw cushions off of the sofa and tossing one to Bakura as he used the other. They lay on their bellies, Bakura already had Ryou's laptop opened to crunch numbers.

"I'll be DM." Bakura smiled.

Ryou snorted flashing his left hand. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Come on, _yadonushi_ , I promise not to stab . . . _that hand_."

"Ha, ha, I see what you did there, and I told you to call me Ryou."

"And yet I still seem to be your tenant, so why not _yadonushi_?"

"I'm going to be DM," Ryou redirected the conversation, knowing he'd lost the argument about the sardonic nickname. He gave Bakura his best attempt at a smirk. "And you get to be the hero."

Bakura snorted, only half paying attention as he picked out character perks. "If you insist on being DM that means you're the hero and I'm the glorious villain that will defeat you."

"That's hardly role playing. Let's switch it up."

"You honestly expect me to be some do-gooder running around and saving orphans and doing fetch quests for widows?"

"You get to defeat a smug king at the end of it all."

Bakura grinned, his silvery eyes catching Ryou's. "I'm still going to be a thief."

"Sure. Go for it."

They played until midnight. Ryou noticed that Bakura made a rather good anti-hero. He always pretended to go on quests for treasure or reward, but often scoffed at the meager pouches of copper the poorer villagers gave him, throwing them back at their feet and saying it wasn't good enough to bother with before storming off without any payment at all.

"This would make such a good graphic novel," Ryou muttered to himself while setting up the next town for the next day when they played.

"Monster World?" Bakura yawned, only paying half attention.

"The story you're telling with your character. He's quite charming."

Bakura snorted. "He's a total asshole."

"Well yes, that too, but it's an almost endearing quality in him."

"If you say so." The thief jumped to his feet, stretching and scratching his brown belly. "I'm going to steal your couch."

Ryou stood up as well, looking away from thief. "You don't have to sleep on the couch. I mean, I have a queen-sized bed."

Bakura snickered. "Inviting me into your bed, are you?"

"We shared a body. I don't see how it'd hurt to share a bed."

Bakura winked, the gesture almost lost beneath his shaggy bangs. "I sleep nude."

"That doesn't matter. I'll have on my pajamas." Ryou shrugged. "It's your call. I just thought the bed would be a little more comfortable." Ryou went to the bathroom. He showered, changed, brushed his teeth. When he returned, he noticed Bakura curled up beneath the duvet. Ryou smiled at the sight, crawling onto the other half of the bed and making sure he kept a polite distance away from his bed-mate.

Despite his best efforts, Ryou still woke with his face snuggled between Bakura's tanned shoulder blades. They weren't exactly spooning, but it was very close to it, and Ryou pushed himself out of bed before Bakura could wake up and make fun of him about it. Ryou listened to all his bones crackle as he stretched and decided they'd have omelets for breakfast.

Bakura stumbled into the kitchen fifteen minutes later wearing only his shenti. "Hey," he yawned.

Ryou smiled. It was the closest thing to a polite greeting he'd ever received from the former spirit. His eyes settled down to the indigo shenti and then back to Bakura's face. "Do you not like the clothes?"

He shrugged, sitting down at the table and allowing Ryou to pour him a cup of tea. "They're fine."

"Then why are you wearing that?"

"It's comfortable. People wear too many clothes now."

"It's not as hot here as it is in Egypt," Ryou said. "You should wear a shirt."

He didn't really mind it. In fact, maybe that was the problem. He didn't really mind it at all. Bakura's skin was a warm, rich brown. His body was lean like a cheetah's. It was difficult not to stare at, but Ryou didn't want to stare- it seemed rude to do so.

"It's not like I plan on leaving the apartment."

Ryou set their plates down on the table, giving up. He'd lost yet another argument. As Ryou washed the dishes, Bakura tried to sneak away. Ryou glanced over his shoulder. "Don't you dare go into the living room yet. I want to cut your hair."

Bakura scratched the top of his head. "It's really not that bad."

"It's annoying the piss out of me and I'm cutting it," Ryou said, going back to the dishes. "Either I cut your hair or you put on a shirt."

Bakura gave a low chuckle. "Is this some sort of game? You want to feel like you have some semblance of control?"

"It's more about you looking like a sheepdog."

Really it was more about Bakura looking like a thief from an erotic Egyptian fairy tale. Ryou was hoping that a haircut would make him look a little more ordinary. He grabbed a pair of scissors, pushing Bakura back into one of the kitchen chairs and wrapping a towel around his neck. Ryou used a spray bottle he kept in the bathroom for styling to dampen the thief's hair before combing it down.

He used the comb as a straightedge to guide where the scissors should cut. The clip, clip, of the metal blades sliding together created an odd, comforting rhythm.

"I hope this makes you happy, because I really don't see the point," Bakura grumbled as Ryou worked around his ears.

"Is that the only reason you're letting me do this? To make me happy?"

Bakura's smirk showed below his long bangs. "You know me, _yadonushi_ , I always pay my rent one way or another."

Ryou shook his head, but he smiled at the same time. Towards the end of the haircut, he had to give up using the comb. Bakura's hair was as unruly as his temperament. Ryou settled for pulling at strips with two fingers and then cutting. When he was finished, Ryou stepped back to examine the end result.

"Well, fuck." Ryou crossed his arms over his chest.

"What do you mean, _fuck_?" Bakura jumped up and grabbed at what was left of his hair. "Ryou, I swear the the Dark One that if you fucked up my hair I will-"

"-Don't worry." Ryou laughed. "You look good. Go and check if you're worried."

Bakura dashed out of the kitchen. Ryou stuck his head out the door, shouting towards the bathroom. "I never realized how vain you were, Bakura!"

"Suck my cock, Ryou!"

Ryou shook his head, going back into the kitchen to sweep up the platinum hair scattered on the floor. Finished, he searched for Bakura in the living room, frowning when he didn't see him. Ryou walked down the hall, wondering if Bakura went back to sleep, but he noticed Bakura in the bathroom, leaning over the counter. He stared at himself in the mirror, touching his own face.

When Bakura noticed Ryou watching him, he jerked back, looking sheepish. "Dammit, Ryou, you're not a thief, don't sneak up on me like that."

Ryou smiled. "You're blushing."

"No I'm not!"

"So? It looks good, right?" The platinum locks were still a little shaggy, but they didn't fall into Bakura's eyes or tickle his neck.

He glanced at himself again. "I guess . . ." He traced the scar down his cheek. "I'm used to your reflection. It's odd. There weren't mirrors in Egyptian. I saw myself in the reflection of the river, or in stolen treasure, but it's not the same as a mirror in a bathroom."

"You look . . ." Ryou felt his own cheeks heat up. "Exotic."

Bakura grinned, raising an eyebrow. "Exotic, am I?"

"Did you wear kohl like Marik when you lived in Egypt?"

Bakura shrugged. "Yeah, there were usually jars in the tombs I could steal." His grin returned. "Why? Do you think I should start wearing it again?"

"Um . . ." Ryou muttered, trying not to imagine how good Bakura would look. "If it's cultural. At least it's not as bad as waist-wrap you're wearing."

"Shenti."

"It looks like a skirt."

Bakura smoothed his fingers down his chest. "I don't think that's why it bothers you."

Ryou stared at the wall across from the bathroom to avoid looking at Bakura all together. "You're the one that's been staring at yourself in a mirror for fifteen minutes, so don't insinuate that _I_ find you attractive."

"Oh . . . so I guess that kiss yesterday was because you're trying to be my friend? Do you kiss Yugi and Anzu like that too?"

Ryou's eyes dropped from the wall to the floor. "I'm still not exactly sure why I did that. You were ranting and I wanted to shut you up."

Bakura's laughter echoed in the bathroom. "Interesting method, _yadonushi_."

Ryou rolled his eyes at the nickname.

"That's right, you don't like it when I call you that . . ."

Ryou didn't notice Bakura close the gap of space between them until he felt Bakura's breath bathing Ryou's earlobe with heat as he whispered, "Ryou."

A spark lit up below Ryou's belly at the sound of his name being whispered into his ear. Ryou turned to face Bakura, their mouths close. Ryou's mauve eyes searched Bakura's face, trying to read him, to see how facetious he was being, but all he could see were Bakura's broad lips.

"Are we going stand here all day talking about how pretty you are, or are we going to play Monster World?"

Bakura's luscious mouth smirked. "Why not do both?"

Ryou rolled his eyes and then walked down the hallway. He remembered he hadn't unpacked yet, so he tossed all his clothes from his trip to Egypt into the wash before going back to their Monster World board. Bakura made sure he spent the day sitting in provocative positions and he even licked the dice at one point- _for luck_ , he had said.

Ryou did his best not to stare, especially because he knew Bakura was _trying_ to get him to stare. It became a game between them, innuendos and subtle flirting with neither one of them acting on the tension. Monster World became Ryou's salvation. Bakura's enthusiastic roleplaying provided enough distraction to keep Ryou from screaming. Ryou didn't think an RPG would be fun with only two people, but Bakura was quick-witted and imaginative, and the little story about a travelling thief that couldn't seem to say no to villagers in need grew into something epic and memorable.

When it was time for bed, Ryou went into the bathroom to change at get ready. When he returned, Bakura made a show of ripping off his shenti and stretching before bed. Ryou admired him from a safe distance, but when Bakura crawled on to the bed- on his hands and knees while glancing over his shoulder and winking at Ryou- Ryou decided to call the thief's bluff.

He marched up to the bed, eyes locked with Bakura's, and used the flat of his palm to give Bakura's round, silt-colored ass a healthy smack. Bakura yelped. The sound was a balanced mix of surprise and surprised delight. Ryou smiled and walked around to his half of the bed.

Their game had no rules, but Bakura seemed to sense that he'd lost that particular round. With a quiet groan, Bakura shuffled beneath the covers and lay on his belly. They started on opposite sides of the bed, but in the morning, Ryou was curled up to Bakura. This morning, however, he had his arm locked around Bakura's waist, as if trying to claim the thief and protect him with the same gesture.

"Can we eat what you made yesterday? It was good," Bakura muttered, and Ryou didn't think he was all that awake considering Bakura's tone.

He smiled, sucking in a deep inhale to catch Bakura's sent. He still had a feral smell about him, but it had never offended Ryou as much as he'd pretended it did on the first day Bakura had returned. Keeping Bakura's scent in his mind like a souvenir, Ryou stood up and wandered towards the kitchen to make breakfast.

Bakura entered the kitchen, showered and wearing nothing but his shenti again. Ryou didn't bother arguing with Bakura about the wrap any further. He knew it was a fight he'd never win. They ate as usual and Ryou washed the dishes while Bakura disappeared into the living room.

When Ryou was done, he found Bakura sketching in a notebook while sitting on the sofa. Ryou snuck up behind him, leaning down and peeking at the drawing. It was a quick self-portrait.

"Bakura!" Ryou shouted, excited.

Bakura jumped at the sound of Ryou's voice. "What'd I do wrong this time?"

"Sorry." Ryou laughed, scratching the back of his head. "Your drawing- it's amazing."

Bakura snorted, trying to act indifferent, but his cheeks looked warm. "Of course. Everything I do is amazing."

The best, most wicked but perfect idea ever lit up in the back of Ryou's mind. He jogged over to his bookshelf, pulling a random issue of Maiden Rose out from the others and handing it to Bakura. "Remember this?"

Bakura smirked at the graphic novel. "My memory could use refreshing. Why don't you sit in my lap and read it to me? It'll be like old times."

Tempting as the proposition was, Ryou had different plans. "Let's make our own."

"What?"

"Let's make our own erotic manga. You can draw the pictures and I can write the script."

Bakura shook his head. "What's the point?"

"It'll be fun!" Ryou plopped down on the sofa beside Bakura. "Besides, maybe we could get it published? Wouldn't that be nice? You could pay rent with actual money for once."

"That doesn't sound half as fun as paying you with living dolls."

"Then think about this. Do you want a job? I don't, but I'll be 18 next month and high school is almost over. I'm going to have to either find a college to go to or work in the Museum with my father." Ryou grimmanced. "I'd rather have a successful manga, and I really think we can make this a success." Ryou grinned. "We already have the perfect protagonist."

Bakura gave Ryou a crooked smirk. "Do we? And who, pray tell, is our perfect protagonist?"

Ryou leaned close, holding Bakura's chin with finger and thumb. "You are."

"What?" Bakura tossed his head back, freeing it from Ryou's hold, and erupting in harsh laughter.

"Not _exactly_ you, more like the mysterious, nameless Thief King from our RPG. We can just copy some of the better moments over and mixed it up with unlikely sex scenarios."

Bakura hadn't stopped laughing, and Ryou's statement only fueled new peals. "And who, precisely, is this Thief King of ours going to be having sex with? The pig farmers and innkeepers?"

"Oh don't be absurd. No one wants to fantasize about having sex with a pig farmer!" Ryou jumped and ran to his case of extra figurines and rummaging through them. "We'll have to change some of the designs up, but we know plenty of attractive people to draw inspiration from."

"Pffft, such as?"

Ryou grinned, pulling the Priest Set figurine from the pile. "A royal priest would make a good issue."

Bakura's laughter simmered into a low chuckle. "You have got to be fucking kidding me."

"We could also get a character that looks like Marik!" Ryou almost laughed when Bakura's face turned crimson at the suggestion. Ryou licked his lips. "He could be a repeating character." Ryou closed his hand around another figurine, pulling his fist from the box without showing Bakura the figure. "And what better way to end the series than with the lowly thief seducing the Pharaoh himself." Ryou opened his hand to show the Atem figurine.

Bakura threw his notebooks as hard as he could at Ryou's head. Ryou dodged, dropping the figures back into their pile and raising his hands up as if to defend himself. "Just hear me out, Bakura."

"You are fucking crazy!"

"It's like you're finally getting your vengeance. You get to _literally_ fuck the Pharaoh while implying that _you're so damn good at it_ that he ends up basically handing his kingdom over to you by the end of it all." Ryou clapped his hands. "We could even call the manga _King of Thieves_. That's a good title for an erotic graphic novel series."

There was no more laughter, just pale eyes glaring at Ryou. "Did Slifer scramble your brains back in Battle City?"

Ryou shrugged. "What better way to humiliate a dead Pharaoh?"

Bakura opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it, his face twisted in thought. "What about your character?"

"I'm the author, I don't get a character."

"But I'm the illustrator, why do I have a character?"

"Uh, because you were the freaking Thief King, that's why. Besides, we won't make it exactly the same. We should definitely keep the red cloak, but you should make the character taller."

"Why taller?" Bakura shouted.

"We'll have to change the looks of everyone. We can't make them look like people we know- especially people in the media a lot like Seto and Yugi. We'll just use them as models. We'll keep basic personality traits, and some of their nicer features and just play with the rest."

"By that logic there's no reason not to add you into this awful idea."

Ryou crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine. If you're so eager to have sex with me in an Egyptian fantasy then draw until your fingers bleed. I don't care."

Bakura licked his bottom lip. "Make sure you write those scenes in extra detail."

"And you make sure you draw yourself taller than Marik. Nobody wants a tiny protagonist."

Bakura slammed his fists down into the couch cushions. "Fuck you! Edward Elric."

"Last I checked Full Metal Alchemist wasn't an erotica."

"The Thief King will be whatever height I fucking make him! And it won't matter because all the other characters will be on their knees sucking him off!"

Ryou grinned. "So that means we're going to make the series?"

"Pffft, whatever. You're so boring I guess we need some kind of hobby." Bakura winked. "And fucking lots of men sounds like a good hobby."

Ryou sat back down on the couch. "I really think this will be fun."

Bakura smirked. "Yes. It will be a blast. However . . ."

Ryou blinked. "What?"

"I need some references and inspiration." He stood up, getting their gaming laptop and bringing up a web browser.

"That should be no problem," Ryou said. "I'm sure there are a lot of art references online."

"Yes, but I need something more relevant to the topic at hand."

Ryou's skin grew hot and his belly tightened when he saw what Bakura was searching for on the laptop. "Porn?"

"Of course porn. That's what we're going to be making, host. Porn."

"N-not necessarily. It's erotica."

"Which is a fancy word for porn."

"There's a difference!" Ryou insisted. "Porn is about the sex- erotica is about the art! Our manga will be aesthetic; it'll have character development!"

"Any good artist researches their genre." Bakura selected one of the endless videos on the screen and set the laptop on the coffee table in front of them.

Two men started to make out on a sofa- much like the sofa Ryou sat on. Ryou tried not to look, though his eyes kept darting back. "A-alright. If you think it'll help you draw, b-but I should probably go and-"

"You should probably stay here and research this with me, _Ryou_."

He said Ryou's name as if it were fruit on his tongue, and Ryou knew _damn well_ that he did it on purpose. Ryou glance at the thief's face, watching the thoughtful look he wore as he watched the pornstars on the screen massage each other's cocks until they were long and hard. Ryou somehow forgot to get up and go do anything else. He found himself leaning a little closer towards Bakura.

Bakura noticed, staring back at Ryou. "Damn, Ryou, it hasn't even gotten to the good part yet."

"You're cheating. You always cheat at everything," Ryou hissed, his voice a little thin and his breathing a little quick.

Bakura's smirk only drew Ryou's attention to his lips, so full, and so thick that Ryou licked his own lips as he stared at Bakura's mouth while he spoke. "You knew I was a cheater when you decided to start this game, Ryou. Don't whine like it's not fair now."

"I told you I was sorry for kissing you."

"And I told you that stealing a kiss was nothing compared to stealing a body."

On the screen, one of the two men dropped down to his knees, swallowing his lover's cock and bobbing his head. The scene made Ryou's pants hurt, and he wished he wore a shenti like Bakura did.

"I don't want to get hurt," Ryou whispered.

Sadness flashed across Bakura's face. It was sudden and unexpected and made Ryou regret his statement. Bakura held Ryou's left hand, tracing the knot of scar tissue. "Because of all the times I hurt you?"

Ryou's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh no. I wasn't thinking anything like that." He turned away, his hand still in both of Bakura's hands. "If I let this happen, I'll start to care about you and . . . you don't want a friend."

"Yeah, I did say that." Bakura snorted. "You'd be the first one since I was six."

Ryou turned back to Bakura, noticing that the sorrow on his face was clearer now, stark and naked around the lines near his mouth and the brightness of his eyes.

Ryou grabbed Bakura's shoulders and pulled their bodies together. He was slow this time, and careful. He tilted his head to the side so their noses didn't bump together, and he felt out Bakura's lips with his own instead of slamming their mouths together.

Bakura responded this time, kneading his lips against Ryou's and holding onto Ryou's forearms. The sounds of moaning and sucking from the laptop fueled them. Ryou pushed Bakura down into the soft, plush sofa cushions. Their lips continued to push together and pull away with little nips and sucks. Ryou allowed the weight of his body press their erections together, but they didn't buck or shift. They focused on each other's mouths only. Their pace defied the video beside them. As the actors began smacking together, skin to skin, Bakura and Ryou slowed down, deepening their kisses, only brushing their fingers over patches of bare skin.

Even after the video finished, leaving the screen black with a replay icon flashing in its center, Ryou and Bakura continued to kiss. When Ryou pulled away, both their lips looked sunburned from friction. Ryou caressed Bakura's unscarred cheek. "You're not alone anymore . . . I want you to know that."

Bakura's lips parted. He looked lost, lust and old, old sorrow in his eyes. "Dammit Ryou," he whispered. "You ruined my video."

Ryou poked Bakura's bare, dark chest. "Watch it again while I make lunch."

He stood, adjusting himself before walking into the kitchen to wash his hands and prepare them lunch. He was hot and flushed and screaming for release, but he'd only really known Bakura for three days and it felt too soon.

Ryou spent the rest of the day distracting them with Monster World, keeping a safe distance from Bakura. Bakura looked pensive, like a child with a toy out of reach thinking about how he might climb to obtain it. Nevertheless, Ryou could only distract them during the day. Once night fell, once they faced each other from opposite sides of the bed, Ryou knew he could no longer postpone the inevitable- although he wasn't sure exactly what the inevitable would entail.

"Goodnight," Ryou muttered towards their pillows, curling beneath the covers as far to one edge of the bed as possible.

He felt the mattress shift with Bakura's weight as he crawled towards Ryou. Ryou held his breath, expectant. He imagined the scrape of teeth, or the brush of a tongue, or nails grazing his skin, but what Ryou got was Bakura's arms wrapping around him and Bakura's face hiding in Ryou's hair.

Ryou gasped at the sudden affection. He rolled to his side so he could grab Bakura in return, smoothing his fingers over dark skin until they both fell asleep.

Their days were mostly spent with Monster World and working on their _project_. They used sketch books to storyboard and then Ryou would write the script while Bakura would draw the pictures. Ironically, it was when Ryou was writing that he felt the least aggravated, the least hot and bothered. Art required Ryou's attention, but any other time of the day- as they ate, as they gamed, as they watched tv- Ryou became possessed by daydreams about Bakura.

So, a week later, when Bakura grabbed Ryou and pulled him into his lap, Ryou sighed with relief. He dug his fingers into Bakura's short hair, slipping his tongue into Bakura's mouth before sucking on Bakura's top lip. Ryou cracked his eyes open to watch Bakura's face.

Bakura kept his eyes closed. His expression and body relaxed as he allowed Ryou control over the situation. Bakura's easy manner, and the way he forfeited his lips to Ryou's kisses, were too much for Ryou to resist. He dropped down to Bakura's neck, sucking until a necklace of bruises lay across Bakura's cinnamon brown skin.

Bakura shifted until Ryou sat between Bakura's legs instead of in his lap. His shenti fell away from his hips in the process, leaving Bakura's thighs exposed for Ryou's admiration. Ryou gilded his hand up the smooth, brown skin, kissing harder before pulling away enough to speak.

"We should probably work on the next issue."

Bakura gave an annoyed grunt to Ryou's suggestion. "I'm too distracted to work." His eyes skirted off to the side where their sketchbook sat. "I'd do a better job if my head was clear."

Ryou found himself smiling, teasing his nose along the curve of Bakura's ear. "Oh? Having trouble thinking lately?"

Without warning, Bakura wrapped his arms around Ryou and stood up, lifting Ryou up as well. He set Ryou down on the coffee table, knocking several notebooks and figurines to the floor in the process. Ryou's eyes grew round from the surprise of being moved. It was easy to forget how strong the thief was, despite being a touch on the scrawny side. Bakura crawled on top of him. His untied shenti dropped to the ground. With a harsh tug, Bakura jerked Ryou's shirt over his head. The thief framed his teeth around Ryou's nipple, licking, then sucking, and then rolling his tongue in circles.

Ryou gripped the edges of the table, tossing his head back, and arching. "I-I don't, ahh, want to break the t-table, Bakura."

"Will you stop being so damn practical." Bakura tugged at Ryou's belt buckle.

Ryou gasped, wishing, wanting, mentally screaming for everything that was happening right at that moment. "Maybe we should slow down?"

Bakura looked up, his hands fisted around the hem of Ryou's pants. "This isn't what you want?"

Ryou stared at the ceiling, feeling himself throbbing for the very thing he was trying to prevent, but still he said, "I don't want you to run away. If we go too fast you'll run away."

"Dammit, Ryou." Bakura jerked them both up and then sunk them both into the couch cushions again. He grabbed Ryou's face in his hands, demanding Ryou's attention. "Don't make me say it."

"Say what?"

Bakura released Ryou's face and stared at the sofa cushions between them. "That I won't go."

"Because it's a lie?"

"You know I can lie."

"Even to me?"

"Especially to you. I used to lie to you all the time."

"What about now?"

"Now . . ." Bakura looked up, eyes catching Ryou's. "I'm drawing your stupid manga, aren't I?"

Ryou held his breath for a moment. "What about not wanting a friend? Was that a lie?"

"Damn you, I just want to clear my head, not answer fifty questions."

Ryou grabbed Bakura's hardening cock, gliding his palm up and down to encourage the erection. "Tell me."

Bakura's eyes glazed over with lust. His jaw relaxed and his hips moved to Ryou's rhythm. He snorted, gathering up the last of his will to speak. "Yugi makes friends . . . I'm sure we can do better."

It was enough. Ryou dropped down to his knees and to where Bakura twitched in Ryou's hand. He stuck out his tongue, licking around the plump, swollen head before wrapping his lips around Bakura's hot flesh.

"Gods!" Bakura shouted at the ceiling as Ryou sank down and dragged up. His fingers twisted into Ryou's hair as he muttered.

Ryou sank lower, exploring Bakura's cock with his lips and tongue. He held Bakura's shaft with one hand, and used the other to roll Bakura's balls. Bakura's hips twitched upward and he moaned. The muscles in Bakura's chest and belly tightened as his grip dropped to Ryou's shoulders.

Ryou continued to allow Bakura's cock to slide into the back of his throat. Bakura's breathing became a rapid panting often interrupted by lilting moans. His sultry voice made Ryou ravenous for the taste of Bakura's skin. His fingers squeezed a little tighter around Bakura's shaft. The more Ryou sucked, the more he wanted to touch himself. By the time Bakura gave out a final cry, Ryou was near desperate. He swallowed, and pulled his lips back with a pop.

Ryou stared up at Bakura. His eyes gleamed, and his lips were the same shade of coral as his cheeks. Bakura's lips were parted; he breathed heavily through his mouth as he returned Ryou's stare. Ryou sprang into Bakura's lap, struggling to pull his pants down to his knees. He grabbed Bakura's right hand, shoving it towards his erection. Bakura wrapped his fingers Ryou's shaft, giving a single, slow, upward pull of his hand.

Ryou yowled with pleasure, bucking back into Bakura's closed fist. Ryou stared at Bakura's lean, dark body, and the way his brown fingers looked squeezing Ryou's pale, blushing cock. He whimpered, and bucked, and tugged at Bakura's platinum hair.

"Faster," Ryou begged.

Bakura chuckled low in his throat. "Do you like this?"

Ryou clenched his teeth, consumed by want. "Don't talk- too close- please, Bakura!"

Bakura grabbed Ryou's ass with his free hand as he sped up. Ryou leaned against Bakura, gasping for breath, his face burning hot. Ryou came, and thick beads of seamen dappled Bakura's brown chest. Ryou collapsed against Bakura, not caring if his mess made them both sticky at once.

Bakura wrapped his arms around Ryou, embracing him. Ryou gasped. Again, he hadn't expected the soft gesture. Ryou closed his eyes, moaning a little. "I like this."

"Shut up, Ryou," Bakura whispered.

Ryou nuzzled against Bakura's cinnamon-colored shoulder. "I like this a lot."

"Weren't we supposed to be working?"

"In a minute." Ryou sighed, closing his eyes.

When they fluttered opened again he was on the sofa alone, wrapped up in a blanket. He looked around, confused at first, but then remembered being held. He looked around the room, saw Bakura at his computer drawing. His short hair was damp from a shower, and he wore a tank top and pair of shorts Ryou had purchased for him.

"You finally put something different on."

Bakura glanced over his shoulder. "I put the other in the wash."

"You put on a shirt?"

Bakura shrugged, going back to his drawing.

Ryou stood up, peaking over Bakura's shoulder. "Looks good."

"Yeah, now that I can concentrate," Bakura grumbled beneath his breath.

Ryou grinned, running his fingers through Bakura's feathery hair before going to take his own shower. Ryou wondered if their sexual outburst would affect their nightly cuddles. He rather hoped it would, but that night Bakura didn't try anything. However, he didn't he push Ryou away when Ryou curled up beside him, so Ryou was content.

Another week passed and their relationship stayed predominantly platonic. Ryou wanted to try and kiss Bakura again, but he was afraid of getting pushed away, so he settle for throwing all his extra attention into writing the script for their graphic novel. It worked, until they reached the volume where Ryou introduced his self-inserted character into the storyline. Ryou found himself staring at his computer screen, thinking about real erotic scenes instead of pretend ones.

It didn't help that Bakura sat on the couch with a sketch pad, watching porn. The thief stared mostly at his sketchbook, raising his head from time to time to stare at a scene, or rewind a section and replay it. The moans and _smack-smack-smack_ , made it impossible for Ryou to concentrate. He exhaled, saved his document, and went over to the couch. Sitting down, he examined Bakura. He wore sweat pants, but no shirt. Regular meals had covered up his ribs, and exercise had built up the muscle clinging to him. Ryou struggled with the urge to touch him. He wanted to trace the muscles, draw them with his fingers.

Bakura glanced up. "What's wrong?"

"Writer's block." He nodded to the sketch pad. "Is that us?"

Bakura winked. "Don't you mean our characters?"

"You knew what I meant."

Bakura grinned. "Yes, I think I do know what you mean."

"Your hair is already getting a little shaggy again."

"Avoiding the topic, _yadonushi_?"

"Am I your landlord again? You've been doing so well saying my name."

"Oh? Would you _like_ to hear me say your name?"

Ryou gestured to the sketch pad. "That pose is wrong, you know."

Bakura frowned, staring at his sketch and trying to find a flaw. "What's wrong with it?"

"You have yourself topping."

Bakura snorted. "That's how you're writing it."

"Yeah, but you know in real life that's not how it'd go down."

Bakura tossed his sketch pad onto the coffee table, leaning closer towards Ryou. "Were you in the mind to demonstrate?"

Ryou's stomach somersaulted. He couldn't tell if Bakura was being suggestive or facetious. he opened his mouth, wanting to call Bakura's bluff, wanting to order Bakura to the bed, but Ryou looked down at the sofa. "No, of course not."

"Pity." Bakura chuckled, as if the entire situation was humorous, as if sex was a ripe grape one could pluck off of the vine and pop into one's mouth instead of a complicated mess of emotions and urges all fighting each other.

Ryou asked himself, was it still too soon? His mind wanted to say yes, but Ryou was starting to doubt his logic. Why was he counting days? Counting weeks? Why was he worried about an external, social sense of decency? They had shared a body. Perhaps _shared_ was an optimistic word, but he couldn't deny that he felt connected to Bakura, as if they already were physical lovers. And their tryst on the sofa a week ago was still a hot, sweet memory in Ryou's mind, like warm glaze coating a fresh baked pastry.

Ryou shifted to his knees. His balance was awkward on the couch, but it gave him the room he needed to reach behind Bakura's head and pull their mouths together. He gave Bakura three, long, deep kisses before pulling away. "I'm going to take a nap."

Ryou stood up and walked to his own room. He stripped and tucked himself beneath the comforter, running his own hand down his stomach and to his thigh. He was hard, and he teased his cock with light strokes.

"Am I interrupting?" Bakura asked from the door's threshold.

Ryou turned down the corner of the bedding, inviting Bakura to join him in the bed. Ryou watched Bakura drop his pants on top of Ryou's on the floor before walking towards the bed. Everything about Bakura was beautiful, his pale hair and eyes, his smooth, dark, cinnamon skin, his confident swagger. Ryou imagined him thousands of years ago, a scrappy thief living free but lonely in the desert. The reality of Bakura was more glorious and more exotic than their fictitious _king of thieves_ would ever be.

Bakura slipped his head beneath the covers and Ryou felt Bakura's tongue lapping at Ryou's cock. Ryou called out and gripped the sheets and Bakura continued to lick up and down Ryou's shaft. Ryou's eyes sank closed. He felt his chest go rigid as he held his breath.

Bakura peeked up from the comforter to look at Ryou. "I figured I should return the favor from last week."

"Take it into your mouth," Ryou ordered before he could filter himself or worry if he was being rude or not.

Bakura didn't protest. In fact, he gave Ryou a broad, pleased grin before dipping back below the covers and taking Ryou in until Ryou felt the back of Bakura's throat. Ryou bucked twice, he half-sat, knocking the comforter to the side of them as Ryou raked his fingers through Bakura's plantanum hair, yanking hard and using Bakura's hair like reins.

"Deeper. Deeper, asshole."

Ryou wasn't gentle as he tugged on Bakura's hair and all but fucked Bakura's mouth, but, as he looked down, Ryou noticed the deep flush across Bakura's cheeks and the relaxed expression on his face as he allowed Ryou to do as he pleased.

He used his free hand to brace himself against the mattress, scarred hand clenched in Bakura's short strands of hair. Ryou continued to buck and jerk into Bakura's mouth.

"Mmmmm, like that. Good. Bakura, I'm-" a sharp breath slowed Ryou's words, "g-going to come straight down your throat."

He noticed Bakura stretching to fit more of Ryou's cock into his mouth. Ryou shuddered, threw back his head, and came with a long, loud groan.

Bakura swallowed and then pulled back, gasping for air.

Ryou licked his lips. Ryou knew that nothing he could ever write could compare to seeing Bakura that flushed, or hearing him gasping for breath.

Ryou shoved Bakura against the mattress. Bakura's cock twitched against his belly, hard, almost bruised-colored from blood pooling into the head. Ryou admired it, realizing that sucking him off had gotten Bakura aroused enough to agree to almost anything.

He crammed two fingers into Bakura's mouth. Bakura sucked on them, flicking his tongue across the pads of Ryou's fingers. Ryou retracted his fingers and pressed against Bakura's asshole. He didn't penetrate, not trusting the spit to be slick enough. He merely teased Bakura, watching Bakura's face for a reaction.

Bakura screwed his eyes shut, turning his head towards his pillow. He hinged his ass closer to Ryou's fingers in order to feel more contact. That's all Ryou needed. He dashed to his dresser, taking a out a small bottle of lube and a vibrator.

Racing back, Ryou dumped a generous amount of lube into his fingers. He searched for Bakura's prostate, stimulating it with easy, downward drags of his fingertips. Bakura screamed out the names of random gods. When Ryou pulled out his hand to grab the vibrator, Bakura moaned out Ryou's name as if he were another god.

Ryou held the vibrator in his right hand, keeping it pressed deep into Bakura's body. His left hand held Bakura's shaft. He fucked Bakura and sucked him off at the same time. Bakura wailed, no longer capable of calling out to the gods. He came hard, his whole face the color of crimson tsubaki blossoms.

After swallowing, Ryou sank into the mattress. He pressed a content sigh into the comforter before looking up. Bakura lay on his side, watching Ryou with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Bakura? Are you okay?"

"Hmmm? Yeah."

Ryou narrowed his eyes. "Are you _sure_?"

Bakura matched Ryou's gaze, smirking. "What? Do you think I'm too stupid to know if I'm okay or not?"

"No, I just think it's the sort of thing you'd lie about."

Bakura grabbed Ryou and pulled him close. Ryou felt himself blushing as he found himself face-to-face with Bakura. Bakura brushed their noses together before turning his face and giving Ryou a soft kiss.

Ryou's heart melted, dripping down into his stomach, at least it felt like it.

"Hey, landlord?" Bakura whispered.

"No, not landlord- roommate."

"Yeah?"

Ryou nodded.

Bakura smirked. "Hey roomie?"

"What?"

"Cook steak for dinner."

"One blow job and you think you're entitled to steak?" They looked at each other again, both bursting into laughter for some reason. Ryou rolled his eyes. "I have to go to the store."

"Want me to go with you?" Bakura asked.

A surprised smile stretched across Ryou's face. "It'd be nice to have help carrying the bags home."

It became a routine of theirs- shopping together. Ryou managed to coax Bakura into stopping somewhere to eat first. Bakura's clothes fit him well after gaining a healthy amount of weight, and Ryou loved the way the sunlight struck the thief's hair- often wondering if his own looked as brilliant in the light.

Ryou's birthday came and went. He avoided his other friends, not because he didn't want to see them, but because he wanted to work on his graphic novel. His mornings and nights became consumed as he tried to do Bakura's beautiful artwork justice by making sure the dialogue was as precise and descriptive as the images.

He currently sat in Bakura's lap as the wrote notes for the final few issues.

"Can't the Pharaoh just die?"

"No, that'd be too sad." Ryou smacked at Bakura's hand to reprimand him for the suggestion.

"I think it'd be a happy ending."

"But haven't you grown attached to _this_ pharaoh? You did his design yourself, and the protagonist has slept with him several times."

"Maybe a sad death is what the series needs at the end."

"Say that again and I will smack the scar off of your smirking face." Ryou huffed, leaning back and into Bakura's chest.

He chuckled. "So rude and violent. What ever happened to my nice, sweet, landlord?"

"He became your roommate and was horribly influenced by you."

Bakura slipped his hand beneath Ryou's shirt, sliding his fingers up Ryou's stomach and towards his nipple. He teased Ryou's ear with his lips as he spoke. "That influential, am I? What else can I influence you to do?"

Ryou squirmed, biting his bottom lip to keep a moan from escaping when Bakura squeezed his nipple. "Nothing until we finished outlining the rest of our story!"

Bakura chuckled again, removing his hand and mouth from Ryou- much to Ryou's disappointment. "They fight-"

"Bakura-"

"Listen, Ryou. They have to fight, but at the last second, the pharaoh throws down his khopesh and closes his eyes, accepting his death."

"But the thief can't go through with it?" Ryou asked, glancing over his shoulder to look at Bakura.

Bakura rolled his eyes. "His dagger can graze the pharaoh's chest." He smirked. "And then he slaps the pharaoh several times in anger."

Ryou smiled. "And then?"

Bakura growled in frustration, tossing the notebook and pen on the floor so he could grab Ryou's waist. He tugged. Ryou understood Bakura wanted him to turn around, so he complied and straddled Bakura's lap, resting his hands on Bakura's shoulders.

"And then three of the council members can try to assassinate the pharaoh. The entire rivalry between the thief and king was a conspiracy to leave the country in chaos so they could seize control, but your magi character and Marik's freed slave character help kill the traitors. Afterwards the pharaoh will announce them as the new council and they can have a weird four-way in the throne room, but dammit Ryou, the last panel is going to be the thief sitting on the throne and getting sucked off because this happy ending bullshit is garbage."

Ryou laughed during the end of Bakura's speech. "It's perfect!"

He rushed in and bit the side of Bakura's neck. Bakura gasped. Ryou felt Bakura's skin pucker with gooseflesh from the excitement of the bite. Bakura's neck often had faded, rust-colored blotches from healing hickies, but that didn't stop Ryou from selecting a patch of unmarked skin to bite and suck until Bakura was bucking up against Ryou's body and calling out with his head tilted to the side.

Bakura found Ryou's nipples again, no longer teasing them. He twisted and pulled at them in earnest. Ryou's own moan slipped between his lips and teeth. He grabbed the hem of his shirt, and pulled it up over his head.

"Turn over," Ryou ordered in a thick whisper.

He stood, dropping his pants as Bakura positioned himself with his knees sinking into the sofa cushions as his hands grabbed the back of the couch for support.

He glanced over his shoulder at Ryou, leering. "Like this?"

Ryou grunted, shoving the indigo shenti up Bakura's waist. Ryou dragged the coffee table closer, so he could sit down but still reach Bakura. He spread Bakura's bread-brown ass cheeks, staring at his entrance for a moment and allowing the anticipation and excitement to build in the pit of his own stomach.

Bakura thrust backwards, greedy for Ryou to begin. Ryou watched Bakura writhe for a moment before giving Bakura's asshole a playful kiss.

"Ryou!"

Ryou purred, making sure the vibrations from the sound reverberated against the soft, pink skin. "Say it again." Ryou flicked his tongue from the bottom to the top of Bakura's entrance.

"R-ryou!" The word half-choked in Bakura's throat.

"Again." Ryou continued to lick, slower, broader, taking his time.

Bakura wailed out a string of _ryou's_ and _oh gods_ , until Ryou felt like he wanted to come from nothing more than the sound of Bakura's voice. Ryou alternated between circling his tongue and sucking with his mouth. The attention rendered Bakura incapable of words. He groaned hard, and panted as if there wasn't enough air in the room.

Bakura made a sort of hissing sound, almost a wheeze, but not quite. It took Ryou a minute to realize he was whispering _please_. That was a new word for the un-ironic half of Bakura's vocabulary, and Ryou felt obligated to indulge him.

Ryou fumbled beneath the cushion until his fingers found plastic. He pulled the lube out and started to stroke the gel onto his cock. Ryou moaned as he touched himself, pulling his mouth away from Bakura so he could prep him. When they were both ready, he slid in, feeling Bakura clench around his girth.

Ryou shut his eyes, toying with Bakura, going slow and shallow until the thief growled into the couch cushions. Then Ryou slammed into Bakura's ass once- hard. As Ryou pulled back, Bakura squeezed his muscles around Ryou's width. It was too good not to slam hard into Bakura a second time. Ryou wasn't good at teasing; he loved indulging Bakura and hearing him growl and demand more.

Ryou's rhythm was decent, as fast as he could go while still penetrating deep and forceful. Bakura never stopped squeezing, tighter, tighter, until the heat and pressure was too much and Ryou's legs shook as he came. Instead of collapsing, Ryou grabbed Bakura's hair and pulled the thief to his feet. He slammed Bakura down into a chair, dropping down to the carpet and opening his mouth wide enough to take in Bakura's entire length all at once.

Bakura hitched up, shoving into Ryou's throat. Ryou held Bakura's base to control the depth of penetration, but allowing Bakura to buck and thrust as he pleased. The scene reminded Ryou of the ending of their story- his king of thieves getting pleasured while slouched in a throne. The muscles in Bakura's belly twitched as his cock started throbbing. Ryou sucked, swallowing every drop before pulling away and regarding Bakura with a lust-clouded look.

Bakura pulled Ryou into his lap again, wrapping his arms around Ryou's waist and resting his head on Ryou's chest.

Ryou lay his cheek on the crown of Bakura's head. "Is it so bad? To have a happy ending? To find love instead of vengeance?"

Bakura snorted, scrawling little circles on Ryou's back with his fingertips. "Maybe it's not _too_ bad."


End file.
